Mistletoed
by Mistletoe Contest
Summary: Her beloved oak tree had been taken hostage by a parasitic plant: Mistletoe. But when she learns the story behind the devil of a plant, will her opinion of it change? Can she be mistletoed into appreciating its history? An Entry for the Beneath the Mistletoe Twi Fanfic Contest.


**Title: **Mistletoed

**Summary: **Her beloved oak tree had been taken hostage by a parasitic plant: Mistletoe. But when she learns the story behind the devil of a plant, will her opinion of it change? Can she be mistletoed into appreciating its history? An Entry for the Beneath the Mistletoe Twi Fanfic Contest.

**Paring: **Bella and Edward

**Rating: **M, for Language

**Word Count: **3848

**~ooo~**

Mistletoed

Cold.

Lonely.

Cynical.

That was what I was. Winter seemed to have settled in on our little town well before the trick-or-treaters had even donned their costumes. The little girls dressed up as Elsa from _Frozen_ really did bring snow with them well before the winter solstice even began.

Now, December was here and the grass was covered in a thick, fresh layer of fluffy white snow, untouched by anyone until I carefully planted one foot in front of the other in an effort to avoid falling on the ice covered walkway in front of my apartment. I made my way over to the bench that I had sat on many times before during the warm summer months, reading some of my favorite books. My fog-like breath puffed out quickly as I plopped down on the frozen bench with a shiver. It felt like I did on the inside: unneeded.

I glanced up at the almost bare branches of the huge, dormant oak tree that resided in the front yard of my apartment building and frowned. I hated the cold and couldn't wait for the winter season to pass so the once majestic tree could bloom in all its glory again. I preferred this oak tree to the tiny and artificial fir tree that was currently lit up with useless Christmas cheer back in my little apartment. It was a gift from my parents and meant to be a reminder that they were with me in spirit, but all it did was remind me that I was all alone here.

My mentality was that of Scrooge and the Grinch combined, but I didn't plan on stealing or destroying anyone else's holiday. Spending the joyous season by myself sucked—especially when I had just left everyone I loved back in the sunny Florida area to embark on my first real world experience in the Pacific Northwest a short five months earlier after I graduated from college.

From the bench swing I sat on, I could hear Christmas carols pumping loudly through the walls of my next door neighbor's closed but obviously not well insulated windows. My steel-toed boot-covered feet swung back and forth as the bench swayed in the cold winter breeze, the frown marring my face deepening as I stared at the offending greenery growing on the barren oak.

All of the tree's acorns and leaves had long since disappeared from its thick branches. They drifted away, turning a burnt tan and floating through the air with the autumn winds after the warm summer sun and high temperatures that allowed me to run around barefoot just like I did back home disappeared. The only thing still remotely green on the tree was the parasite-type plant growing in large clumps on six of the tree's large branches.

Mistletoe.

I snorted before muttering aloud, "Why people think it's romantic to kiss under a parasitic plant that only grows because a bird either shit or puked up the berry seeds boggles my mind."

"Maybe it doesn't seem romantic to you, but if you know the history behind the reverence given to the plant, you might somewhat begin to understand and appreciate why it has become such an iconic part of Christmas spirit," a deep voice informed me and made me gasp.

I'd thought I was alone in my mutterings. I turned to give the invading voice a piece of my Grinch-filled mind, but all logic and fire disappeared when I took in the man who had spoken.

I started at his feet—I don't know why but I always judged a man by his shoes first. Biker boots. I was fucked…but not in the good way. I shivered, and it wasn't from the cold.

No it was the image of a tatted up Adam Levine lying naked on a bike wearing nothing but boots holding a well-placed helmet that came to mind and caused me to become excited. I didn't even find the man all that sexy, even if _People Magazine_ disagreed with me.

I was just lonely...and horny. _Bitch, we passed horny and were well on our way to sexually deprived._

I shook my head in an attempt to clear it of all of Ginny's—my vagina—sexual thoughts and focused on the ripped and worn blue jeans that covered the mystery man's legs. Through the holes, I could make out the black thermal pants he had on under his jeans to help fight of the winter weather, and his thick, muscular thighs made my previously dry mouth water.

_Jesus, those were a pair of legs we wanted to see bare between our own._

With another shake of my lust-filled head, I hit the crotch of his pants, and I swear his cock twitched. I sucked in a lung full of the crisp, cool air. I hadn't even seen his face and I was ready to ask if I could ride bitch on the back of his bike for the rest of my life.

_What the fuck was wrong with me? And why was I allowing my vag to turn me into a sex fiend?_

I was never this bad back home and I wasn't getting regularly screwed then either.

His hands were shoved into the pockets of a well-loved black leather coat. I wished I could catch a glimpse of his fingers just so I could see if they were as rough and weathered as I was picturing them. I glowered at Ginny's thoughts and silently swore I wasn't going to pick up any new batteries for B.O.B., her bunny of a boyfriend, if she didn't relinquish control of my mind back to me.

With his chest covered by the thick leather, I quickly made my way up to his face. His scruff-covered chin was the first thing I saw, and without thinking I licked my lips. My action brought my eyes up to his lips and the smirk he was sporting as a result of my overly-long perusal of his body, well, mine and Ginny's eye fucking to be quiet honest—though hers was still focused on his twitching cock, singing a siren's song and hoping I didn't fuck up her chance at riding his yule log.

Since she was still trapped in a fuck-dream fog, I was finally able to remember I was in Grinch mode and that smirk of his angered me even more than the mistletoe that was ruining my beloved tree.

Gritting my teeth, my eyes met his and I was fucked all over again.

Green.

No, not just plain old crayon green, but mistletoe green eyes burned into my dark brown orbs. Sexual tension fueled my fiery temper and a snort left me as I finally found my voice again. The snort wasn't in any way sexy, but it helped me remember that he was just a man.

"Then enlighten me, oh wise and knowing Mistletoe Man."

That sexy smirk was still on display as he pulled his hands out of his pockets and held up a pack of cigarettes. "You mind?"

I shook my head and watched as he lit up a smoke. I absolutely hated smoking, but he somehow made it acceptable. I just wasn't about to inform him of that fact.

Mistletoe man began to close the distance between us and proceeded to sit down next to me on _my_ bench. I was about to snap at him when his scent invaded my senses. Warm cinnamon, burnt pine, and pure unadulterated man filled my lungs, and it took every ounce of self-control that I owned not to scoot closer so I could get an unfiltered lungful of him.

When he exhaled, the scent of cigarette smoke diluted his heavenly aroma and I was able to focus again when he finally began to share his mistletoe knowledge with me.

"There is an old Celtic legend about an oak tree just like this one that also had mistletoe growing on it. To them, the mistletoe-laden oak tree was sacred and they would climb it to cut down the mistletoe with a gold sickle and make an elixir out of it that they used as a cure for infertility..."

The tenor of his voice lulled me into a serene peace as he continued to tell the tale of druids and their ceremony that involved the sixth day of the moon, the sacrificing of two white bulls, and priests wearing white robes praying to God in hopes that the gifts given would allow the mistletoe drink they concocted to make those unable to conceive fertile and cure all poisons that had entered their bodies.

His tale had an enchanting feel to it, but I just couldn't fathom how he felt kissing under said parasitic plant had anything to do with his story, so I asked.

"Tell me how that story has led you to believe the commercialized use of mistletoe for kissing a sweetheart or crush relates to today?" I was a bit huffy and condescending.

His cigarette had long since died, and as he lit another, I focused on his eyes as they glowed in the flame of his lighter. Those eyes of his were doing something to my insides, and I wasn't sure if I liked it.

"Well, when you think about it, kissing is the first step to anything remotely sexual. Simply put, kissing leads to sex and sex leads to babies. It's even a scientific fact that here in the U.S. more babies are born in September than in any other month, and those babies were obviously conceived sometime during the holiday season. It's all those mistletoe kisses, I'm telling you."

I laughed. A huge belly-aching laugh at his logic, because I thought everything he said was good in theory until I realized I too had in fact been born in September. My laughter abruptly stopped because now I was picturing my parents getting their freak on and that was not a good thing. Fucking Martha Stewart.

Mistletoe Man's eyes were filled with mirth. "You're a September baby, aren't you?"

I huffed, pissed that he figured it out. "It's just a coincidence."

His baritone laughter filled the air. "Keep telling yourself that, Scroogette."

He stubbed out his second cigarette and then proceeded over to the door where the loud holiday music was coming from. He dropped the butts into an old coffee can and then turned back to me with his hand resting on the doorknob.

"See you around, Bella." And then he was gone.

I wanted to pound on his door, demand he tell me how he knew my name, but I was a chicken shit. With an icy huff, I stomped across the grass and back into my warm apartment.

~ooo~

The next day dawned even colder than the one before, but I was on fire. I'd fallen asleep on the couch while watching _Miracle on 34th Street_ and wearing the Snuggie I'd "won" during the White Elephant game at work earlier in the month. Mistletoe Man had starred in my dreams which were borderline X-rated. Like Orgasm on 34th Street pornographic. I even think I came in my sleep if the wetness in my panties was anything to go by...I just wish I could remember it if I did.

Grouchier than ever before, I pulled of the blasted Snuggie and stomped into the kitchen in search of breakfast. When I pulled open the refrigerator door I realized I'd been slacking on my food shopping. There was nothing but a few slices of individually wrapped cheese, mustard, a half full bottle of Merlot, and a tube of chocolate chip cookie dough for when Aunt Flow decided to visit.

The cupboards weren't much better, so I slammed them shut. Opening the fridge again, I pulled out two pieces of the cheese and unwrapped them. The first I gobbled up in no time flat. The second I folded into tiny squares and ate slowly.

My still mostly empty stomach growled, so I went and got ready to go to the store.

When I was finished, I carefully walked to my car and headed off to the store. I drove like a little old lady because I wasn't used to the snow and ice; I'd even invested in studded tires so I wouldn't need to know how to install chains. Nope, I just drove to the local tire shop and they switched them out for me and said they'd change 'em out again for me in the spring. Those tires were currently waiting to be put back on in my patio closet.

Once I arrived at the store, I managed to make it inside without falling and I might have even done a little dance before pushing my cart through the automatic doors.

Cooking for one sucked. I'd resorted to Lean Cuisine meals, frozen pizzas, and Eggo waffles when I wanted something other than cereal or oatmeal. Canned Soups, along with KraftMac-n-Cheese filled my cart...the deluxe kind, not the powdered cheese kid stuff. I was an adult, after all.

Sure, I had fruits and veggies in the cart too, but a girl had needs and mine came in the form of some Pepperidge Farm cookies. Not really paying attention as I perused the selection of cellulite enhancers, I tossed Mint Milanos, Veronas, and some Mauis into the basket. Apparently, my cookie tastes matched the places I'd dreamed of visiting one day.

With a sigh, I continued to stare absentmindedly at the wall of temptation as I made my way up the aisle. My thoughts were elsewhere and the continuously growing cart of loneliness benefited from my distraction. It wasn't until I collided with another cart that my mind finally came into focus.

"I'm so sorry." I was such a putz.

"No harm, no foul, Scroogette." The voice and the nickname made my head snap up.

While he was still a cocky bastard, his choice of jeans were button-fly this time and I really wanted to tug them apart and find out if he was wearing boxers, briefs or nothing at all…I was guessing boxer briefs while Ginny was hoping for nothing at all. The thermal white shirt he was wearing had grease stains on it that basically confirmed that he was good with his hands.

I really needed to focus on something other than the ache he seemed to be causing between my legs.

"Whatever, Mistletoe Man. I was here first anyway. Didn't your Mama teach to not to get between a woman and her cookies?"

His eyes twinkled, if that was even possible, as he responded. "Getting between a woman and her cookies has always been a very rewarding pastime for me. We both have benefited greatly from it."

_Of course he had…the slut. _"I bet she thought about her cookies the entire time and when the three minutes were up, she went and ate them, more satisfied than before because if your idea of a good chocolate chip cookie is Chips Ahoy, she definitely wasn't satisfied with you."

Open mouth, insert foot. I was such a bitch, and apparently now a cookie connoisseur.

"I'm sorry." I sighed again. "I'm normally not this frigid bitch stuck on a never-ending cycle of PMS. I just hate the cold, miss my family, and loathe the fact that we're so far apart for the first time ever.

"And after this embarrassing Dr. Phil session in the cookie aisle, I'm going to go grab some wine and then drown my sorrows in a giant tub of ice cream." I quickly turned my cart around and raced away from the man who had rendered me an open book. I shook my head at my confession, mumbling to myself. I really needed to learn to shut my mouth.

"Hey! Wait up." Mistletoe Man obviously could not tell when a woman wanted to be left alone. "I was hoping to run into you again. I wanted to invite to a party I'm hosting tonight. It's just some friends getting together, nothing fancy."

"It's okay...I'm not some charity case." I tried to continue on with my hasty exit but he wasn't having any of it.

"I didn't think you were." He pulled of his beanie, revealing a head full of copper colored hair that he seemed to have a problem keeping his hands out of. I found myself wishing they were my hands instead of his own. "Look, we got off on the wrong foot. My name's Edward and I'm your new neighbor. Moved into that apartment from the other side of the building just last month after my brother went and got engaged. Figured the happy couple could use their own space."

He huffed, probably because he had caught the babbling disease I couldn't find a cure for but continued when I nodded. "It's a housewarming party...apartmentwarming? Whatever. You get the idea. Come by, meet some of the other twenty-somethings from the building. There'll be snacks, beer, and shit. Party starts at eight. Don't make me come hunt you down, Bella."

That immediately reminded me that he knew my name already and I wanted to know how, so I asked. "How do you know my name?"

His cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink that he couldn't blame on the cold. "Uh, yesterday wasn't the first time I saw you sitting under the oak tree. The first time was about a week after I moved in. You were sitting on the bench, shouting into your phone. I think your exact words were, 'Don't you Bella me, Mom. I'm a grown woman and I can take care of myself,' or something like that.

"I'm not some creepy stalker. You just sounded like me when I'm left answering to my mother too. Just come over and meet some people who will vouch for me. It'll be fun...I promise, Bella." It was almost as if he was tasting the way my name played on his lips again before he went on his way, only to stop and shout, "And bring some cookies. You can school me."

His long legs carried him away before I could even get a retort in.

_Fucking cookies._

~ooo~

I made the cocky but sexy-as-hell bastard his cookies, but I didn't go all out. Edward—Mistletoe Man—whoever he was, was not going to get my Pepperidge Farm deliciousness. Sure, homemade was best, but who really had the time to make them?

I'd put way more effort into my appearance than I ever had before: skinny jeans, a black cowl-neck sweater that hugged my curves, and a sexy pair of heeled boots that I knew better than to try and walk in when the ground was icy. But I'd been having a rare klutz-free day and decided to chance it.

I knocked on his door, but I wasn't sure if anyone heard me over the music, so I knocked again, harder.

He was still sexy standing in the doorway wearing another pair of holey jeans and another Henley, this time in charcoal gray. "Hey, Bella. Thanks for coming. I see you brought your cookies."

"They're Tollhouse." I shoved the Tupperware container into his hands. He looked clueless about what I meant and it was cute. "Refrigerated section of the grocery store, yellow tube. Slice and then bake. A step up from the knockoffs you purchased," I teased. "Can't go jumping into the deep end of the cookie pool until you've lost your water wings."

He popped open the container and shoved a whole cookie into his mouth. "Fuck...these are better than mine," he mutter with a still full mouth. "Come on in, I'll introduce you around."

After he hid the cookies in his kitchen and gave me a beer, I met his friends.

They were a wild and rambunctious bunch, but exactly the type of people I wanted to hang out with. I laughed almost to the point of tears, drank a few more beers, and then laughed some more. I exchanged numbers with his sister and sister-in-law and planned to meet them at a bar for New Year's Eve.

I finally felt like this move was headed in the right direction and it was all because of the Mistletoe Man. I continued to watch him as he circled around the groups that had gathered together inside his place. He never let anyone go without a drink and was a very considerate host. Though try as I might, I couldn't keep my eyes off of him all night, even if it was just through my peripheral sight.

The hours seemed to float away, and I was feeling no pain by the time I decided to leave. I said my goodbyes, but Edward insisted on walking me to my door.

After I unlocked my door, I turned to him and spoke. "I had a really nice time. Thank you for inviting me."

"Thank you for coming...and for the cookies." He seemed to want to say more, but settled on, "Goodnight, Bella."

"Goodnight, Edward."

I turned to step into my apartment before I heard the words, "Fuck it," and then found myself spun around and a set of warm lips caressing my own. While I was startled by the abruptness of the kiss, it was very much welcomed.

I couldn't have told up from down as our misty breath mixed and created a fogbank around our faces.

When we finally parted, and as if he could sense the question on my mind, he pointed up to my doorway. My eyes landed on the parasitic plant that was now hanging up way higher than I could reach without a ladder.

"Dude, did you just mistletoe me?"

Edward's ears turned a bright pink, a wonderful reminder of his blush in the store earlier even though it wasn't as obvious as it had been in there. He was embarrassed that he believed he needed an excuse to kiss me. The sexual tension he provided for Ginny and I was enough, but he didn't need to know that.

"No," he lied and tried to pull out of my arms, but I wasn't about to let that happen.

I threw my head back and laughed, a lightness that had been missing inside me bursting forth. I was happier than I'd been in what seemed like forever. "You totally mistletoed me."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did." I pulled his face down to mine, my lips resting on his. "You hijacked my mistletoe cherry."

I pecked his lips quickly and Edward's arms tightened around me as he finally relaxed and realized I wasn't mad. It wasn't long before he deepened the kiss I had initiated that time. I couldn't breathe. I didn't care. I just never wanted the kiss to end.

But it did.

Edward gazed into my eyes, the truth ever so visible, but still he confirmed what I already knew. "Mistletoed."

I nodded.

"Mistletoed indeed."

Who'd have thought a parasite could be the start of such a beautiful relationship? I was definitely a fan of the plant and its history now.

**~ooo~**

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